


If you die, I'll come back to life

by Babywolfchick1142



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abuse, Bipolar Ian, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugs, Escort Service, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Past Abuse, Prostitution, Rape, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence, m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:29:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babywolfchick1142/pseuds/Babywolfchick1142
Summary: Ian left with Monica two years ago, no one had seen or heard from him since(at least, no one seems to have). Now Monica is dead, she over dosed, but where the hell is Ian. Carl wants his brother home, but everyone seems to have moved on. No body cares. Even Mickey was seeing someone new.Ian had left with Monica, his life was a series of ups and downs. Sometimes he was fine, sometimes his mind was a swirling black hole filled with demons. Ian begins to spiral out of control without his meds and family. Will there be anything left of him to find?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Shameless story, also its my first on this website. I love feed back, if I don't get it, I tend to loose interest. I try to update as often as possible. Please just give it a chanve.

It was a freezing cold November, the coldest they had is years. Ice and snow lined the grass, pavements, and roads. Winter had obviously came early this year. The Southside Chicago streets were almost empty for a change, a few of the braver thugs roamed, but almost everyone seemed to be gone. Most probably home with there families, it was thanksgiving, after all.

  
Carl Gallagher sat on the front porch watching as the snow fell from the sky. His family, well most of his family, were all inside getting ready for dinner. Kevin, Veronica, Svetlana and the kids were all over, as well as Mickey and who Carl assumed to be his new boyfriend. Then there was Frank, Fiona, Debbie and Liam, and of course Lip and his newest girlfriend. Mandy was even there, and his own girlfriend was set to show up shortly.

  
Only one person way missing, at least only one that matters. It had been two years since Ian took off with Monica. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since the day he dumped Mickey, and broke his heart. Its like he vanished. They looked for a long time, following any and every lead without a single trace. They even came up with some money to try a private investigator, but they were never found. Everything was fucked up for a long time after that, Mickey pretty much went of the wagon, every Gallagher was placing blame on each other as well as themselves.

  
In the end they all had to accept the fact that he was gone, and that he would come back when he was ready. Only, that day had yet to come. Everyone had moved on with there lives, they couldn’t sit around wondering about Ian anymore. Of course they all still loved him, and could never truly forget him, but in a way they all just pushed him to the back of there minds. It took a year and a half, but Mickey found someone new, they’d been dating 6 months. Debs had her baby, lip still had college and was a recovering alcoholic, they all had there own shit to deal with.

  
Carl had his own shit too, but for some reason he couldn’t push Ian to the back of his mind like the others. Ian had always been his favorite brother, though he didn’t advertise it. Maybe its because he didn’t get to really say goodbye. Everyone just seemed to live there lives, but he couldn’t. He somehow managed to get himself in one shit storm after the other, but now he was trying to straighten up his life. He wanted to go off to Military school, he just hadn’t told his family yet. He wanted too, not just for himself, but to feel closer to Ian. 

The rest of his family would probably be confused, upset, and pissed off. They would ask where he got such stupid ideas, but to him it wasn’t stupid. It could literally save his life, save him from a life of gangs and crime. If he were there, Ian would understand. He would be proud of Carl. Ian always understood him in a way the others never could, Ian kept to himself and didn’t advertise his drama. Not like the rest of them, Ian had ambition, he had a dream.

  
Carl hated Monica, he used to hold on to his love for the mother she could have been, and sometimes was. Now, however, he felt nothing but hate. Its Monica’s fault Ian got the stupid mental illness in the first place. If she wasn’t so fucked up, Ian wouldn’t be either. Then she had to go and convince Ian that he didn’t need his meds, then convinced him to leave with her. Monica always had to ruin everything.

  
Carl remembered when Mickey first brought him and Debbie to The Milkovitch house, because Ian wouldn’t get out of bed. It was that moment when he saw Ian lying there unresponsive, that he first began to hate Monica. After Ian ran away for the army and then left, he ended up with Monica. She must have known something was wrong, she must have recognized the symptoms, that she herself had for years. He came home, he was happy, but then he wasn’t. Then he was again, then again he wasn’t, and she took him away.

  
Carl took a hit off of the cigarette that he had in his hand, dinner would be ready soon and he was starting to get cold. The tips of his fingers were steadily going numb. He stood up and went inside, he was greeted by the sound of laughter and a deep warmth.

  
“There you are Carl, dinners ready guys! Let’s eat.” Fiona spoke with a happiness he hadn’t heard on thanksgiving in a long time. Everyone was here, and for once it was looking like it would be a good one. Just as everyone started to take there seats there was a knock on the door.

  
Fiona frowned. And went to get up, but Lip cut her off. “I’ll get it. Just set up the table, I want us to have a good time for a change.”

  
“Oh sure. Like we are capable of having a good thanks giving. How can it be good, when all if you are in my house, eating my food?” Frank began to enable on, Carl rolled his eyes. He loved Frank, he really did, but that didn’t mean Frank was any less a shitty father. Carl had spent to long being under his thimb, now he had little faith in Frank. He still held hope.

  
Fiona started to fish out the food, every one was happy and smiling, until Lip came back with a cop following being him. Everyone stilled and grew serious, looking around to see who the cops were after this time, so risked fucking up thanks giving. Almost everyone looked at Mickey.

  
“What? I didn’t do nothing.” He said irritated.  
“I’m officer Torrez, I need to speak to either Fiona, or Frank Gallagher.” He was a relatively short cop, brown hair, brown eyes, African american. Before Fiona could get a word our Frank stepped up.

  
“I’m Frank Gallagher, how can we help you sir?”  
“Mister Gallagher, can we speak in private please.?”  
“No!” Fiona interjected. “I am Fiona Gallagher, I want to know what’s going on.”

  
The officer looked kind of annoyed, but his it pretty quick. “I have some news for you, its best I give it in private.” He explains. Before Frank even gets a chance to talk, Fiona stays.

“please officer, anything you have to say to me or Frank, you can say to all of us. We ate just trying to have a good Thanks giving.”  
Carl sees how the cop looked conflicted, before he sighed and began to speak.

“I am sorry to inform you..” He started and Carl heart almost stopped beating. Was this about Ian? Was he okay? Everyone’s fave had a sense of foreboding about them. “Monica Gallagher died last night at Mercy General.”   
It sounds horrible, but Carl actually let out a relieved sigh, but not everyone felt the same apparently. Everyone was shocked. Fiona and Debbie looked near tears and Frank, he actually looked stricken.

“What…what happened. I mean how…?” Spoke Lip. Recovering from his Shock quicker than the rest. Even Liam looked sad, and he didn’t remember Monica. There other guests looked shocked, and a little uncomfortable.

The officer gave them all a sad smile, before answering with pure honesty. “Last night an individual placed a call to 911 saying that there was a women unresponsive. Police and MET arrived and we found her, Monica, unconscious with a empty needle in her arm. She was taken to the hospital , but by the time they got there, it was too late. Monica Gallagher Overdosed and was pronounced dead at 2:03 am this morning.” He said.

No one knew what to say, or what to do for that matter. Looks like another thanks giving ruined because of Monica, thought Carl. 

“who made the call? We’re they with my mom when it happened?” Lip asked  
“I’m not at liberty to say.” spoke the officer.   
“We deserve to know.” Continued Lip. “He could have been the person who gave her the drugs!” 

“We are looking into that, but you should know, tour mother had been using Heroin for a long time now. She just got a bad batch. We do believe that the caller was also involved with the drugs. We brought him in, but had to release him on a technicality.”

  
Frank stepped in now “A technicality? This boy could be the reason my Monica is dead! To hell with technicality! I want to know the little shits name!”

Carl sighed, to think they were all supposed to be smarter than him, but he’s the only one who had a single thought on who called it in. On who could possibly care about Monica enough to call it in. A person who left with Monica two years ago. Everyone was arguing with the cop now, and some were crying, trying to figure out what happened. How it happened, but Carl couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about Monica. She left him over and over, and she took his brother. So he did the only thing he could think to do.

  
“HEY!!!!” He yelled, suddenly all eyes are on him and everyone is quiet.  
“Carl I’m so sorry.” Starts Fiona. “I know how hard this must be, but-“ he cut her off.  
“I don’t care about Monica, I don’t care who gave her the drugs. She took them, she did it to herself. I just have a question of my own to ask, so will all of you just shut the fuck up?”

Everyone was shocked into silence.  
“Wow man. That’s cold.” Says Mickey. Carl rolled his eyes, he and Mickey Actually got along well, Mickey taught him a few things to survive the streets. They hung out a few times and smoked, or drank beer. Mickey even helped him get better at shooting guns, but it didn’t stop Carl from resenting the fact that Mickey gave up on Ian like everyone else.

Carl looked at the cop. “ Did Monica live alone?” the fact that everyone seemed confused by the question pissed him off.  
“The young man who called in, lived with her, but they also lived with several others. It was a crack house.” The cop said, hoping it would appease everyone with that, hoping they would see that she could have gotten the drugs from anyone, and just leave it. But that wasn’t what Carl wanted to know. He didn’t care about her. 

Before Carl could say as such, the officer had excused his self and left. He said he had to get back to work, but if anyone have any questions they could come down to the station. Carl felt like hitting something, not one of them thought to ask about Ian. Not one of them even fucking cared.

“Fuck you.” He said so quiet they could barely hear him.  
“What the hell Carl?” asks Fiona with a confused look on her Fac.  
This time he yelled. “I said FUCK YOU! None of you fucking care. Your all so self absorbed, you all just moved on as quick as possible. YOU DON’T FUCKING CARE!!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs everyone was shocked.

  
“Hey!” buts in Lip. “You don’t talk to Fiona like that.” Carl turned around and punched the wall hard before storming off. Thanksgiving was ruined. How could they so easily forget Ian?

* * *

 

 

A week had passed since the Gallaghers had received the news of Monica’s Death, and Lip was at a complete loss. He was devastated when he heard The news, Monica was a shitty mother, who abandoned them, but he still loves her. They were all grieving, and once again thanks giving sucked. Be sat on his bed at the house, trying to study. It was peaceful, everyone was out. The kids at school, the adults working, and a Frank being Frank. 

He was at a loss, because of Carl, after his outburst a week ago he had barely talked to any of them, not even Debbie. Even Mickey tried to get him to talk, but he wouldn’t. The only person he’s acknowledge was Liam and sometimes his girlfriend, but even to them he was distant. Lip just couldn’t understand why this hot Carl so hard, especially when he claimed to Hate Monica and not care that she was dead.

He was just so angry, he even got into a fight at school, and it had been a long time since he last fought other kids. Get been cleaning up his act for some reason, Lip wasn’t complaining, but now? What the he’ll had set him off like this. Lip was genuinely worried, he wished Carl would talk to him. Fiona was just as worried, she tried talking to him about Monica, but he just yells and says he could care less about Monica, and so should they.

Lip sighed, tonight they are having a wake of sorts for Monica at the alibi room, they got her cremated so there wasn’t going to be a funeral. It was basically a party for close friends and family. Kev was shutting down the bar for it. He was worried about how Carl would act, when he and Fiona told him about it all he said was “Fuck Monica.” He didn’t get it, and he was worried, he hadn’t had a brother this moody since Ian.

The thought of Ian made his heart pang painfully in his chest. God how he missed the red head.

* * *

 

 

One week, seven full fucking days, and still no one has yet to mention Ian. No one thought to ask if he had still been involved with Monica, all they cared about was whether Someone fucking forced her to take the drugs. Carl knew it was intentional, they all did, the others just didn’t want to thinking there mother as the women who OD'd. It pissed him off.

  
He sat in class not even paying attention, how could He? Tonight they we having a celebration in Monica’s fucking honor. Carl was so sick of hearing about Monica, he wanted Ian back. When they were kids Ian always looked out for him and Debbie, more so than the others. Sure Fiona and Lip made sure they were fed, clothed, and healthy, but Ian? Ian built memories with them, good memories. Ian made sure they knew fun, and got a chance to be a kid, even if it was just for a little while.

  
They all always had such big responsibilities, they had to survive. No one had time for fun, except Ian. Funny thing about that is that Ian was the only one that could ever hold down a decent job. He was younger, way more fun, and he held a job better that Fiona and Lip combined. He always managed to come up with Money for them all. He always protected them when Fiona and Lip couldn’t. Liam would have never got into cocaine a few years ago if Ian was the, but that happened the first time he took off. He would have watched Liam, he would have protected him.

  
Just like everything else, it all happened when Ian was gone. He kind of blamed Mickey, too. Not as much as he blamed Monica, but Mickey was an add and drove Ian off the first time starting all of this shit, he more than stoned for it by being there for and helping Ian, but it wasn’t enough. Carl just wanted his brother home.

  
Maybe, in some ways, it was Carl’s fault, too. Before he left, Carl wasn’t there for Ian like he should have been, Ian had so many secrets, a whole life outside of the Gallagher house that most of them weren’t privy to. Lip was closest to Ian, and even he didn’t know everything. They all neglected Ian. When he came back, and everything changed. When they figured out he was like Monica, Carl tried to be there, but it was hard. Ian was always stronger than the rest if them, to see him like that….

  
Ian probably felt that none of them cared, Carl included, but Carl would always love his brother.

* * *

 

  
The school bell rang to signal the end of classes for the weekend, and Debbie couldn’t be more happy. Things had been so tense lately what with work and school, and boy troubles. Now Monica, her very own mother, was dead, and she didn’t quite know what to think. It was all a mess.. everything in life just seemed to pile up on top of her, it all started to go to shit the first time Ian left.

  
A tear slowly fell from her eye as she thought of her lost brother. Everything was shitty enough when he was there, but then he left the first time. He came back and was so different, then he wouldn’t get out of bed, and it all became clear. Then Ian left again, and she was pregnant, she ended up getting an abortion. She didn’t want to have a baby, not even her boyfriend left het alone, and Ian was gone. It wasn’t right.

  
Things just went down hill from there, until they started to look up finally, but now Monica was dead. God damn her for loving her dead beat mother. God damn Ian for leaving they all To shit. He was just like Monica, he abandoned them, he abandoned Mickey. Debbie tears turned to anger as she walked home, she ian, because he started all of this. She hoped he never came back, she hated him now more than ever. He didn’t have to morn the loss of their mother. He got to be free in blissful oblivion wherever the he’ll he is.

  
Or maybe he’s dead too. That thought made Debbie stop in her tracks. Maybe he had OD'd, or killed himself like Monica tried all those years ago. Growing up Ian always has her back, always made her feel beautiful and like a little girl should, even if she never was much of a little girl. Ian made it happen. A tear fell from her eye as she passed where Sheila used to live. God she missed Sheila. Why did Sheila leave her? Why the he’ll did Ian leave her….

  
She hated him.

* * *

 

  
Fiona was in absolute shock. Monica was dead. How could this have happened? Things were finally looking up. Sure, Monica had been gone a long time, but now shes never coming back. All Fionas life she had came and went, but one thing was for sure. She always came back, and she always brought chaos with her. But now she wouldn’t.

  
She was walking down the street passing some random kids playing in the snow covered road, it was a cols frosty day. She remembered when she was a kid, when they were both having the rate good days, Frank and Monica would come out side and play in the snow. Back then it was just her, Lip, and Ian. They would build snow men, Ian would make snow Angels, and the give of them would laugh and have fun together.

  
Then they would go home and girl up in warm jammies, Monica would make hot coco. They would watch a movie as a family, Then they would curl up in bed with Frank and Monica and all go to sleep together.   
The next morning, however, I would be different. They’d wake up and find Frank passed out on the couch, and Monica gone. She would be gone for weeks, and Frank would be drunk. Three children would be left to fend for themselves, but they knew it would be okay again soon. As the time went by, three more babies were born and she was left to watch out for them, but Monica always came back, until she didn’t.

  
Now she was gone forever, and where the fuck was Ian. He was supposed to come back, but its been two years and he hadn’t came back. Ian understood from day one, that Frank and Monica would never always be there for him, he never got his hopes up like Fiona did. He gave up on them long before Fiona did, and she was the one left to take care of the others.

  
She never really got a chance to take care of Ian, he was always so independent. Sure she watched him, but he never needed her, not like Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam had. He was a middle child so she should have had to, but he never needed her. He always had his goals and watched out for himself. He had Lip, too. He never needed Lip, they were more like best friends than brothers. Even though Lip was older and smarter, Ian always was more mature in a way. Until he wasn’t.

  
God she missed Ian, sure he was a hot head at times, but she missed him. He knew how to bore responsibilities, he knew how to take care of himself in a way none of the rest of them could. Everything was going good, then that bipolar gene showed its nasty head, and Ian was the unlucky victim. Fiona sighed out a chilled breath as she finally reached the house.

  
She wished she knew where Ian was, or how to contact him, so she could tell him about Monica. They were never close, but in the later years they formed a bond over Ians sexuality. They lived together, and Ian left with her…He deserved to know she was dead, and deserved to come to the memorial-or whatever it was- tonight, to say goodbye. If only there was anyone who knew where he was, but maybe hits better that Fiona didn’t know, because she’s probably kill the son of a bitch as soon as she saw him. She worried about that bastard every damn day.

  
She hated Ian for leaving, but she wished she knew he were safe. Because at the end of the day, she lived the he’ll out of him, she needed him, they all did.  
“Ian you bastard.”

* * *

  
Carl sat on the roof of the Gallagher house, it was almost time for Monica’s thing at the Alibi room. He didn’t want to go, he could care less about Monica. He was going to go, only because he knows he’ll get beer if he goes. Carl wasn’t gonna pass up a free drink or 6. He could say fuck you too Monica and get a good buzz all in one. Carl smirked. Just because he was going off to military school, doesn’t mean he can’t gave fun before he goes.

  
Carl climbed back through the window, and started to get ready. Fuck it. At least now, he never has to deal with Monica again. He headed downstairs, where the whole clan seemed to be waiting for him. He rolled his eyes. They were so far up a dead Monica’s ass, that He couldn’t give a fuck about them right now. All be could think about was Ian, and how the rest of his family didn’t even seem to care. No one had even thought to see if he had still been with Monica. They all just assumed he left Monica somewhere along the way.

  
Carl didn’t, and that worried Carl. Ian could have been the one that was with Monica when she OD'd, could have been the one who called in. Maybe even the one who bought the heroin and shot up with her. That thought left Carl feeling unsettled, and even more worried. The thought that it wasn’t him, was almost as unsettling as the thought that it was. Because if it wasn’t, then where was his big brother? Was he even alive?  
Carl shook his head.

* * *

 

  
Fucking Gallagher. They can party over anything and everything. Don’t get him wrong, Mickey loved him a good party, but right now he didn’t feel like that shit. He didn’t feel like doing anything lately, but he did what he could to put up a front. He had to be alright, he couldn’t give into his sappy emotional shit. Not today. He was fucking glad that Monica bitch was dead, Mickey hated her. That fucker ruined his life.

  
“Fuck.” Mickey breathed out. He was supposed to be getting ready for the Gallagher fucking thing, but his boyfriend had other plans. Mickey watched as the other man, Jacob was his name, sucked his dick. His head bobbed up and down expertly, he took in all of Mickey without once gagging, and it felt fucking good.

  
Mickey had been seeing Jacob for almost 7 months now, they met at a gay club. At first Jacob was supposed to be just a quick fuck, but then they ran into each other again the next week. From there they just started hanging out and, of course, fucking. They decided the liked each other’s company and actually gave dating a try. For the first time on two god damn years Mickey was happy, but then Monica came back. With her return came back all kinds of thoughts and feelings. Mickey didn’t do that shit, it pissed him off.

  
Jacob was hot as hell, he was tall, had a smokin' ripped body. Redish brown hair that fell to his shoulders in a styled manner, and the bluest eyes Mickey had ever seen. Jacob knew about his past, he was so fucking supportive , it wasn’t even funny. In some ways Mickey was still a thug and a criminal, but for about a year now he’s actually been making some honest cash. Good cash. Well for the most part. He did what he needed to do, and filled out all the paperwork to make it legal, iggy helped out, too. He was a bounty hunter, it was easy work for a thug like him. Easy, and the pay was fuckin’ great, too.

  
The best part? He could shoot people without fear of jail if he need, too. He worked his own hours, and was his own boss.   
Mickey watched as Jacob finished him off, letting out another pleased “fuck!” as the other man did so. Jacob looked up and smirked, Mickey gave him a smirk back.

  
“I suppose we best get ready. The Gallagher consider you a friend of the family, they might be offended if we don’t go.” Spoke Jacob. And just like that, the spell of tranquility fell away.

  
“motherfucking Gallaghers.” He mumbled, Jacob gave him an amused smile, but Mickey couldn’t bring himself to smile back. He got up and quickly dressed in some of his nicer jeans, and just a plain black shirt. He showing even be going to the is fuckin shit.

He was happy Monica was deas. Going there would just make him think, make him wonder.. He couldn’t let his kind go down that road, if he did, everything would go dark. He had a good life going for him now, the only time he stole anything was because he fucking could.

  
The Gallagher had become family over time, more family to him than his parents had ever been. So he wanted to be there for them, he’ll, he fucking needed to be. But Monica took him to a bad place.

  
“Are you ready to go now baby?” smiled Jacob. Mickey just stared at him, and for one moment he’s seeing a completely different red head, but then the illusion fell. Reality we back in.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Fuckin’ Gallaghers.

* * *

 

The wake/party/memorial was in full swing. Different people had take turns holding the urn of Monica’s ashes, and sharing memories about her. The good, the bad, through it all a lot of people loved her. Lip went up and shared the story of the time Monica taught him how to tie his shoes.

The memory seemed so distant now, yet it was one of the only good memories he had of her. Lip loved his mom, but she was never a good one. Now she never could be. He sighed. Frank was already passed out, everyone else was celebrating, the way Monica would want them to. Lip sat at the bar watching as Liam danced with Debbie and Carl. He was relieved when Carl decided to come, he thought maybe it would give the kid closure. But Carl still could see to care less about Monica. Lip was worried, and just wanted to know what the fuck was up with him. He wouldn’t listen, he wouldn’t talk to them. 

Sure he seemed to be getting along with Debbie now, but for how long? It didn’t make any fucking sense to him. Who the fuck knows with that kid, he’s already lived a whole lifetime and was still in fucking high school. He had dealt drugs, went to Juvie, the whole damn 9 yards. Lip shook his head. Why did Monica have to go and die?

As he watched the on goings, he couldn’t help but think about Ian. The last they’d seen him, he left with Monica. If he left with Monica, where was he now? Now she was dead. Was it Ian that was with her? God why hadn’t Lip thought about this before? If not, did Ian even know she was dead? Monica’s life had been he’ll leading to get death. Does that mean Ian’s was, too? Lip shook his head as dread set in.

  
What kind of life had his brother been forced to leave? Why didn’t Monica's death bring him home.

Where the hell was Ian Gallagher.

 


	2. Enter the mania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the lives of Ian and Monica after they left. They both struggle to be happy with there disease, and to find money to survive. Ian finds a job at a club, but likes to work the back. Both go through some major struggles and life changing events. Monica leaves.

Ian’s life was a fucked up mess. It had been 3 months since he ran off with Monica. 2 and a half of which they'd been slumming it on the streets, doing whatever they could to get by. The red head started to wonder if he was better off staying home, he missed his family. He missed his Mickey. Ian hated himself for listening to Monica, he hated himself to leaving them. He hated himself for breaking Mickeys heart, and in return breaking his own.

  
At first the stayed with Monica's meth head boyfriend, but ultimately that didn’t work out. He and Ian couldn’t get along, and he hurt her because of it. Ian was prepared to go at it alone, but Monica decided she didn’t want to leave him alone. She didn’t want him out in the world alone, it was probably the most selfless she had ever been. Or Maybe not, she always seemed yo have ulterior motives.

  
After that, he and Monica had found there way to new york, and it fucking sucked. They had nothing, Monica’s scams only managed to just barely get them by. Most nights they were lucky to find shelter. About 4 weeks in, Ian had finally said fuck it! He got himself a job at a gay club dancing, just like he did when he left the army. He was a good stripper, and made decent money, enough to get him and Monica a cheap place.

  
Soon enough , the bills piled up. Monica pulled off scams, he did what he could, but it wasn’t enough. Older men would always watch him, rich men. Just like back in Chicago. So Monica had the idea that he starts working the back again just like he used too.

  
Ian hadn’t wanted to get back into that life, but things went down hill. He got so depressed he couldn’t even get up to go to work. One night , Monica brought home some coke and made Ian snort it, within minutes he felt better, he got out of bed. He went back to work, and decided he really didn’t mind working the back.

  
It never bothered him before so why should it now? he kept a decent stash of coke, and it kept him going. By then they were raking in some cash, Monica did whatever it was she did, Ian did his job. It worked, they worked. She helped him to stay up, he helped her. It was a win win for both of them. When they were both home together they’d lie on there pallets they used to sleep on, side by side. They would laugh, talk, and drink. If course, the also got super high. Theyd smoke week, snort some coke, take some pills and feel better.

 

Until they weren’t.

* * *

  
3 months into their stay in New York, and Monica took off. Ian should have know better than to trust her. She’s done it his whole life after all. Everything was shitty. He worked the club, he worked the back, but it wasn’t enough. Now he was all alone and all he could think of was his family. Was Fiona, Debbie, Liam, Lip, and of course Carl. He couldn’t get them out of his mind, he sat alone in his empty loft apartment crying . He missed Kev and V. He even missed Svetlana for crying out loud, and of course baby Yev. He loved yev, but most of all he missed Mickey.

  
Tears fell down Ian’s face in streams, Mickey was better off without him. Anything good he used to be, was used up. He was used up, and disgusting. Ian picked up a bottle of oxycotin that Monica left behind, he opened it up. Inside there were 9 pills. Ian shook his head, his life went to shit the moment Mickeys father walked in on them fucking.  
Funny how one small thing can lead to the domino effect that slowly but surely ruined his life. Ian popped all 9 pills in his mouth, and downed them with 1/8 a bottle of vodka. He laid back as everything went dizzy. It was all supposed to be better when he left.

Things were looking up. He had a new start, just him and Monica. Now she was gone, he was alone. Everything was just not.

Ian blinked 3 times as everything went black.

* * *

  
It was winter again, Monica loved the winter! Watching the snow fall from the sky was always magical. She loved to go outside, let her hair down, and dance. The New York streets were beautiful in the snow, every building practically sparkled. Monica giggled to her self, she’d taken a few strips of acid earlier, so everything quite literally sparkled to her. The snow was alive, and so amazing.

  
Monica could never really remember a time she felt so tranquil, so happy. Monica had recently met a new women, she was gorgeous. She had long curly black hair and light brown eyes, she was younger than Monica. They had fun together, a good week of sex and drugs. Oh and parties! Lots of parties, but she had to leave, had to get back to her family. Leaving Monica all alone on the streets, but she didn’t mind. It was so pretty.  
Monica wasn’t worried, for once she knew she had a safe place to go. Her baby Ian was at their apartment waiting for her. It felt so good to have one of her babies with her. She and Ian had so much in common. What made him even better Than the rest of her kids, was the fact that he was the same as her, and he wasn’t Frank’s. Oh she loved Frank, but it was nice to have a child that wasn’t his. One of her own. She and Frank could never be together.

  
Only problem that Monica had was she couldn’t remember where she lived. Where was her baby Ian, where did they live again? The snow was starting to get scary. It looked like tiny blades falling from the sky. They were trying to get her. Monica started to take off running. She needed to get out of the snow. It didn’t help that she was being followed, it looked like clowns. There were so many colors, so many faces.

  
She kept bumping into what felt like solid walls, and the walls were yelling. Why were they telling at her, she didn’t do anything wrong. She felt as her body fell to the floor, she lay in the tint shards of glass called snow. She couldn’t help but let tears fall down her face, Ian was probably scared, he need her. She had to get back to her baby. She needed him.

  
What if he was feeling the same way? What if he was begging for her to come home? God, did she leave her baby? How could she so this, she promised shed never leave him again. That’s what she said when he came with her. She promised she wouldn’t leave. How did she let this happen again? He was finally doing good, they were managing. Now Ian was all alone, and she was lost, face down in the snow. All of this for What?

  
Monica managed to find her way to her feet, she couldn’t just lay down. She had to get home. She started walking as fast as she could without running. She could sense that she was getting close to the apartment, she started to recognize the streets. And the buildings, this brought a smile to her face again. It was nice to be needed, she only hoped that Ian would forgive her for taking off for a week.

  
She would have to explain to him that she really though she was in love this time. She would promise never to leave him again. Her precious son. She didn’t need anyone other than him. She’s promise him that. Home. She was finally home, she stood in front of the apartment complex. She somehow managed to find it, all on her own. Ian would be so happy. She rushed inside.

  
When she finally got to the fourth floor, where there apartment condo was. Monica smiled as she looked at the door. She threw it open in one fell swoop. 

“Ian, baby, I’m home!” she yelled out, but everything was silent. She looked around, buy through the haze of her mind, she could barely see. She blinked three times to clear her sight, and looked down, to Ian pallet. There he was, there was her baby! Only something didn’t seem quite right, he was still, almost to still. Then she saw it, the empty bottle of whisky, and the empty bottle of pills. She literally felt her heart drop it her stomach.

  
She rushed forward, and fell to her knees at Ians side. Tears began to fall from her face.  
“Ian, wake up baby. Please.” She cried out. She pulled him into her lap and felt for a heart beat. Thank God! She found one, but it was faint, and weak. Oh god what had she done. This was all get fault she shouldn’t have left. Monica fumbled around for a phone. She dialed three numbers, and could barely stop herself from full blown sobbing into the phone.  
“911, what’s your emergency?”

* * *

 

  
It was warm out side, summer was here, and the sun was bright. It had now been 7 months since Ian left with Monica. And things were fucking amazing, life couldn’t possibly get any better than this. He and Monica were still on New York, but things were so much better now than when they fist got there. Ian was fucking making 6 god damn figured a week, all he had to do was fuck. Something he loved to do. Nah, he didn’t mind it one bit. Ian smirked his signature smirk, life was fantastic.

  
Leaving with Monica was the best decision he’d ever made. Sure he missed his family, his friends, but all they ever did was bring him down. Now? His life was a constant high. He had so much energy all the time. He worked out at least 3 times a day. He hit the club. Did his thing, then moved on to his second job. He work for a high class make escort company. Best part about It? He only did it part time, and still made bank. The club, the escort service, and working his own got at the back of the club? Life was good. He was never short on sex.

  
Sure most of the men he fucked were old, but they were all fucking loaded. He didn't give a fuck. He got to sport $2000 jeans. He was living in style, and his relationship with Monica? Was better than ever. They both lived on cloud 9. They still had there shitty apartment, but spent most nights staying at 5 star hotels. They lived it up to the fullest. He got as many free drugs as he wanted, and if they didn’t have what he was feeling, he could afford to buy whatever. He and Monica had been if in the land of Ecstasy for 4 days straight. It was great.

  
They both did there fair share of sleeping around, but they always went to hotels. She had many make and female partners. Ian had lost count if how many he’d had, he was just in it for sex he didn’t want a relationship- didn’t need one. He had all the love he needed, strings and attachments weren’t his thing. Not anymore. In a way he never did, his whole life was literally defined by no strings attached relationships- even with his family. The one real relationship he ever had, sent him on a psychotic great, and he could even be faithful.

  
Ian was better off alone, he loved it, it was fantastic. He smiled as some old john pulled up to the curb.

  
“You need a ride, kid?” said the John as he held out a was of cash. Ian smirked some more, and got in the car. It was easy money.

  
“Let me take you to a hotel, red. Is it okay if I call you red?” the old guy asked.  
“you can call me whatever you want.” Ian spoke seductively. He picked his tulips as the old man looked at him.

  
“The names Harry, you look like a lot of fun, I hope you wont disappoint.”  
Ian only smirked bigger. “ Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

  
They soon arrived at some fancy hotel, the old guy- Harry, couldn’t get to his room fast enough. Ian followed closely behind him. The second they reached his room Ian found himself practically being thrown on the bed.

  
“Take of your clothes.” Ordered the John. Ian obliged to the man's wishes. He stripped slowly and sulty to give the man a show. And what a show it was. Harry practically salivated at every revealed part of Ian’s pale skin. Before he could finish by pulling off his boxers, the old man literally ripped them off. He began to kiss Ians body, he stated from the top, and worked his way down. He took special care to avoid Ian’s dick.

  
Harry pulled back to undo his own pants, he released his own erection. “Suck me.” The older man commanded. Again Ian went to work, taking his time To lick up and down the shaft, one thing the red head was good at, was giving pleasure. The old man gasped put a breath and before Ian could even move, Harry l flipped him over onto his belly facing the opposite way from the man. Then the man was on top of him and inside him with no preparation. It hurt like hell.

  
The man grabbed a fiat full of Ian’s hair roughly and yanked his head back so they were looking eye to eye. Tears started to prick the corner of Ian’s eye. It fuckin hurt! But he had to make the John happy, that is what paid, after all. Ian her rarely bottomed, he did whatever it took to get out of it. This guy didn’t even give him a choice. Fuck. He didn’t want this.

  
Soon Harry was done, he rolled off.  
“Damn kid, you were tight.” He said. Ian wasn’t sure how to respond, he wasn’t even sure he could move. He managed to force himself into a sitting position, but damn didn’t it hurt? A sharp pain ran up his spine. The man threw a wad of cash at him and told him to leave. Ian could barely process everything as he slipped his clothes on, at least the clothes he had left, and walked out of the hotel room.

  
It had been a long time since sex had hurt that bad. He found himself standing outside, walking down the streets of new york. Even at night everything was bright. Too bright. Maybe that’s how sex should be, he was just a whore after all. That thought made Ian go numb. All he was and ever would be good for was his body. Ian shook his head, tonight he just wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and girl up with Monica. He wanted to get drunk and tell stories. Before he knew it, Ian was at his apartment complex, he opened the door.

  
“Monica? Are you here?” He asks aloud. He looks and sees her curled up in his bed, they had both invested in beds. He walked over to her, her eyes were open, but she was just laying there.

  
“Mom?” He said slowly. It looked like she’s been laying there all day, she was a mess. “Are you alright? Why don’t you get up?” She didn’t even blink.

  
“Mom?” Ian asked again.

“leave me alone I don’t want to get up.” She finally whispered, before turning away. That’s when Ian realized what was happening. She was pulling a Monica, but everything had been going so well. They were fine. Everything was working out. Now it all went to shit. He laid down beside her, ignoring the pain he felt by doing so.

  
It was all going good, until it wasn’t.

* * *

 

  
Monica liked the summer. It wasn’t quite winter, but the warm sunny days somehow managed to be magical, too. For some reason, however, it didn’t quite feel like it should. She didn’t quite feel like she should. Something was amiss, she want quite sure what to was yet. This bright warm sunny day, somehow felt like it was cloudy, wet, and dreary.

  
She managed to get out of bed and get ready to start the day, but it was a struggle. She put on some nice clothes, and made an attempt at doing her makeup. It all felt so wrong, why did it feel wrong. She decided she needed a pick me up so she Went through the chest of drawers in her area of the loft and pulled out some coke. She did a quick few lines, but it didn’t quite make her feel any better.

  
Monica looked in her mirror and shook her head. She was just being silly, everything was going to be fine. She was fine. She had her baby, Ian, and life was going good for them. They were banking in the cash, and living life to the fullest. So why was she beginning to have doubts? She shook her head, it would all be okay. She forced herself to smile. It would be a good day.

  
Monica exited the apartment and went downstairs to the outside world. The beautiful warm sun was way too hot today, its beauty almost non-existent. It was almost like the sun was purposefully trying to scotch her. It burned her skin. Maybe she couldn’t do this, she was starting to feel sick. Really sick. Monica tried to swallow her doubts, tried to swallow her fears. She started to walk, taking one step at a rime. Breathing one breath at a time.

  
She had a job to do, a nice man- or women- to con our of money. Or to fuck for money, whichever worked best. Ian counted on her to come up with her share. She couldn’t just go to bed, no matter how much she wanted to. No…no, Monica couldn’t do this she needed to go to sleep, she was tired. Ian would understand. She needed to go home.  
She backtracked her way to the apartment. She couldn’t do this, she went inside, and crawled into bed. Ian wouldn’t be upset if she slept in a little bit. He’s understand. Her baby boy always did. She would be okay, she just needed a little sleep.

Everything would be fine.

 


	3. Manic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monica won't get out of bed, Ian's at a complete loss on what to do, he makes a call back home. Meanwhile, Ian gets himself into sime bad situations, and falls deeper down the rabbit hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger Warning*  
> Rape/Non-Con elements apply, as well as heavy drug use.

Ian was at a complete loss, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, or where to go from here. He’s seen Monica like this, countless times, but he never had to take responsibility for Her before. It was always Fiona, or Lip. Or even fucking Frank. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t even know how to take care of himself when he got down.

When they were all back home together, Monica was almost always institutionalized. But Ian wouldn’t do that to get, he’s been there, it was fucking horrible. No one deserved that. Ian sat on the bed next to Monica, a half empty bottle of whiskey in Hand. He sipped from the bottle slowly, ignoring the burn down his throat. He looked down at her, she laid there, wide awake. Awake, but I'm seeing, and unresponsive.

Monica was always so beautiful to him. He loved his mother, she was the face of female beauty. It always broke his heart seeing het this way. Even when he was a kid. He always acted like it never affected him. He always played the strong brother, but he wasn’t. He was weak, he always had been. He always would be.

Ian shifted his weight as his legs began to go numb. Every move he made hurt. Turns out the John the other day had been a lot rougher than he originally thought. He had bruises on his hips an write where the man had held him. His ass was raw, and his back bruised. Ian hadn’t left the house since, he didn’t want to leave Monica. He didn’t want to leave period. After the other day, he just wanted to curl up right beside her.

He told the escort service he was out for the time being, they didn’t mind, he was good enough that they let him serve and go as he pleased. He called in sick to the club, told them he’s be awhile. He brought in enough business for them to let it slide, too. He couldn’t hide forever, no matter how much he wanted too. He had to do something, he had to get up and help his mom, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t know how. Ian sighed, he felt like all he did was sigh anymore. He was so tired of his fucked up life. Why did he even wake up in the mornings anymore? And why the fuck did Monica decide to go onto a depressive episode in his bed? Hers wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his. He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a joint m, he grabbed a Lighter, and lit up. He breathed lit in, deep into his lungs. The marijuana was laced with coke, to give it an extra kick. Right now the extra kick just wasn’t quite strong enough, especially not as he looked down into his mother’s unresponsive, open eyes. “Fuck.”

He stumbled his way to his feet. Maybe Monica had something stronger hidden away in her part of the apartment. After they got more on there feet, they put up dividers around the studio. So each of them would have some privacy. He went through her drawers one by one. Ian knew she has a stash somewhere. “Bingo!” she had about 20 bottles of pills, a bag of weed, some coke just about anything you could think of, all in that one drawer. But he didn’t want any of the regular shit, he wanted something stronger.

Something he'd never taken before, and there it was. Right there. He knew it was stupid. That’s why her never done it before. He had seen Monica on it, he’s seen Frank, he’s seen countless people on it. He always judged them, called them dumb, but he never tried it himself. It was all there, everything he needed. The spoon, the lighter, the needle, the tourniquet, and in a small baggie next to it all, was the heroin.

He’s seen Monica take it countless times, and the way it made her feel. He needed that in his life. He needed the peace, the tranquility. Plus it would ease his pain. Yeah that’s what he needed. Could he really do this? Could he really be that stupid? But was is stupid if it made him feel better, better than he ever had before? Ian shook his head, telling his senses come flying back. He couldn’t do this. He had to help Monica, he had to get back out there and make some money. He couldn’t let himself sink.

He pulled a few tans of E out of the drawer. For now this is what he need. He planned them in his mouth and downed them with his drink. It was time to get himself out of his funk.

* * *

 

 

Despite Ian’s low point yesterday, he managed to get himself up and out of it the house, he also managed to convince himself that taking Heroin would be the dumbest choice he could have ever made. He still wasn’t quite sure what to do about Monica.

He managed to get her to drink some water, but she wouldn’t eat, and only got up to go to the bathroom. He knew he had to get out and make money, not for her, but for his own sanity. Today had been good, he got up, ignored his pain. He then proceeded to shower and dress, after that he left the apartment. From there the day had been long, but it eventually bled to night. Ian had spent his morning putting in some time at the escort service, it was very upscale and lavish, only the cleanest and riches John’s were served.

Ian had 4 or 5 regulars that he served, never doing more than 1 or 2 a day. Only occasionally would he get someone new. The litte time he put in, paid way more than he’s make anywhere else. He later, after applying makeup to the numerous bruises on his body, but the club. Where he danced the night away. He took some LCD, breathed in a little chalk powder And Just Full On Let Loose. It was amazing, Ian hadn’t had this many tips in a long time.

Once his shift was over, he had many people proposition for some extra fun. By that time, he was so high, he didn’t even have it in him to respond. He just went with it. From there everything was a blur, he couldn’t quite remember what had went on, he must have passed out.

The red head looked around as he found himself naked and alone in an unfamiliar bed. His face felt wet and sticky, he wasn’t quite sure why, or how he got there.

“Must have left the club with someone.” Ian murmured to himself. He wiped at his face, and scrambled to collect his clothes. Only when he looked down, did he realize there was blood on his hands. Ian looked at the bed where he awoke, to find there was also a small amount of dried blood on the sheets.

What the fuck did he do? Ian quickly made his way too the hotels bathroom, he took one look in the mirror, and was suddenly assaulted with pain. His right eye was black, swollen and bruised. There was a shallow cut just above his right temple, still lightly bleeding. He had a busted lip, and hand shaped bruises becoming to form on his neck. His chest and back were almost purple in color, a mixture of old and new bruises. He felt a sharp pain deep in his ribs, most likely one was broke. His hips and thigh bruises had seeped and darkens.

All in all? Ian looked like hell. Like Hed been mugged, or hit by a car. As he began to pull on this mother he noticed blood was running down his legs, and his ass felt like it had been ripped open. What in the fuck had Ian got himself into this time. How did he let this happen? God he was so disgusting! Nothing but a used up whore.

The summer night had turned chilly, Ian couldn’t get home fast enough. Luckily the hotel was close to his apartment. Ian’s mind was numb, sadly his body wasn’t. He couldn’t for the life of him, remember what happened. He didn’t even remember leaving the club. Ad he reached his rebuilding and went inside, he hoped Monica has gotten out of bed, or at least done something.

He needed his mom right now. As he went inside, the red head quickly realized that was not the case. Not one bit. She hasn’t even touched her water. She just laid in his bed, sobbing silently. What the fuck was Ian supposed to do? She had already lost a considerable amount if weight. She wouldn’t take pills or do anything. He needed help, he couldn’t do this alone. He was lost. But, who the fuck could he call?

He didn’t have any friends. If he called Fiona, she would make him go home. He needed someone who cared enough about Monica to drop everything and come help him. Someone who wouldn’t make him go home. He needed a fucking drink. Ian walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Everything fucking hurt, why did life have to be so shitty? He hated it, he hated it all. As he was Drinking his beer, it finally clicked. He knew who he could call.

Ian went to the bathroom and took off his clothes, he climbed into the shower. He felt dirty and gross, he turned it on hot and began to scrub, he stood and watched as the blood ran down the drain. His mind going numb and empty. He had to help Monica, but first he had to help himself. He stood there for what felt like hours, before getting out. He stumbled over his torn and bloody clothes, then dressed on some fresh boxers and a white shirt, being careful to avoid his injuries. He walked into Monica’s ‘room where he could just sleep. He needed to sleep.

Ian laughed to himself as he came face to face with the heroin hed contemplated taking just the night before. He was in so much pain, he needed an escape, a good high. Finally Ian shook his hed. Fuck it. He thought as he began to melt it down on the river spoon. He loaded the needle, tied the tourniquet. And then he was gone.

* * *

 

It was a beautiful morning, well it would be, if only he had a fucking drink. Frank looked around the Alibi room, the closest place to a home he’d ever truly had. It would be a better home, if they would hurry up with his drink, Drank had managed to up his intake of 1 beer a day, to 2 beers a day. He was getting tired of waiting, and he said as much.

This earned him another lecture form everyone at the damn bar. It was always Frank this and Frank that. Finally! Kev gave him his second beer. It was about time, too. Frank didn’t pat to wait, not that he paid much anyways, but still! He needed his two beers a day to survive, one in the morning one at night. Then rinse and repeat.

He supposed he should just be thankful that his ungrateful spawn of children weren’t around to annoy him right now. He had some peace. Just him and his beer. An annoying buzz rang loudly in Frank’s ears. The bar phone dared to disturb his inner peace. He tried to ignore as Kevin answered the phone, but then he heard his name. Frank scowled who the fuck was trying to find him now? He went to get up and make his escape, when Kev stopped him.

“Frank its for you.”

“so don’t want any.” He said.

“come on Frank they said its important.”

“well who is It? What do they want?”

Kevin looked annoyed. “I don’t know, I don’t care. Whoever it is, they need to take to yoy, and its important. I got customers Frank, just take the damn phone.” He practically yelled.

“Fine. Fine, but I do this under protest, it better be someone giving me money.” Spoke Frank. “But If its anyone out to get money I’m sending them to you.” He looked at the phone and shifted before putting it to his ear.

“Hello?” He questioned.

“Frank. That you?” the voce was dry and gravelly, but he recognized it from somewhere.

“This is he. Now, whom am I speaking with?” Frank replied.

“Monica’s in bad shape, she needs your help.” He ignored Frank’s question, and cut right to the chase. Frank was beginning to get worried now.

“who are you? How do you know Monica? What do you mean she’s in bad shape.” No matter how many women he met, no matter how many times she left, Frank would always love Monica. By that point a few other at the bar were looking his way, even Kev seemed to take an interest now.

“For fuck sake Frank. I’m not out to get you. Monica won’t get up, she wont eat, I can barely get her to drink. I dont know what to do, she’s been like this for days now. I don’t have anyone else to call. Will you please just do one decent thing and come and help me?” The voice was angry now, Frank wished he knew who it was.

“Maybe I would  be more inclined to help, if I new who the fuck you are. How do I know this isn't a scam?" The person on the other end of the line just sighed and went on about not having time for that. He gave him an address for a apartment in New York. The man said he had already bought Frank a airplane ticket he could pick up at the air port. He even promised to give him money if Frank came, and then the mystery man hung up.

Never once giving away who he was , but Frank couldn’t shake the familiarity of the voice. It had to be someone he knew, he just wasn’t quite sure who it could possibly be. Why the hell Monica was in New York City, Frank couldn’t even begin to guess.

“What the he’ll was that about.” Asked Veronica, who had been listening in along with Kevin. Frank just shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. He stood up, he had a plane ride to prepare for.

“I have to go to Monica.” Then he left.

* * *

 

It was once again night time, or maybe it was day time, Ian wasn’t completely sure. Night and day ran together. It had roughly been three days since he had gotten the courage to call Frank. He d fought himself over the decision for hours. He had to shoot up another dose of heroin just to give himself the courage. He knew better than to tell Frank who he was, the drunk would go run his mouth off. Frank had never liked him, they never once got along. It only got worse after they discovered Ian’s paternity.

Everything was a haze of colors, Ian could feel everything, and nothing all at once. He doubted Frank would even show up, but he had to try something. The red head was in way over his head, and his high was wearing down. Suddenly he felt sick, Ian left the comfort of Monica’s bed to join the loving embrace of the toilet. His hands were shaking, he knew he needed more. Somehow he had managed to go through Monica’s entire stash of H, even with some coke, ice, and a variety of other drugs mixed in between shots.

Maybe it had been longer than three days. Ian didn’t know, he didn’t care. The first night after calling Frank hed smashed his phone. He hadn’t left the sanctuary of the apartment either. Come to think of it, He had managed to join Monica in forgetting to eat, and forgetting to drink. Ian looked at his reflection in the mirror, his bruises were beginning to yellow, and all swelling had went down. He was pale, and he had deep black bags under his eyes. He looked like shit.

Fuck, his hands just wouldn’t quit shaking, he needed more. He ran back to his mother’s drug stash to see if she had anything else, just something to take the edge off from his come down. He looked through the pills, trying to find something, anything at all. Come on come on come on…and there it was. 60 mg Oxycotin. The first drug He d ever OD'd on, it was practically heroin in itself, just not quite as strong. Synthetic or not, it would work until he got his hands on the real thing. He popped 3 in his mouth, and swallowed with the help of his buddy Crown Royal. The effects were pretty sudden, but it wasn’t quite strong enough, so He took another.

Fuck. was this what his life had came to now? It wasn’t the feeling he wanted, wasn’t the feeling he needed. He fucking needed something more, he always needed something more. He needed the real thing. Before Ian could properly process what he was doing, he had showered, dressed, and walked out the apartment door.

Next thing he knew, he was at a club- not dancing, just partying. God it felt good, it felt amazing to get out of the house, and to just let loose. He could almost forget his shaking hands. Therefore bodies pressed up against his, grinding, hands roaming. His current dance partner placed something in his mouth. Acid he realized and he felt it dissolve, he was free. No worries of Monica, no responsibilities.

The club was beautiful, bright lights, thousands of faces. He giggled. The red head was beginning to go on a trip, a long beautiful one. He was moving, passing by the dozens of faces, until he was alone, except he wasn’t. Hands were roaming touching him. It was dark, he couldn’t see anything.

He didn’t want this. He started to shake his head, but everything was spinning. He felt as they started to knuckle his belt, he tried to tell out for them to stop. But he couldn’t speak, he could barely move. He wanted it to stop. He felt sick as he pushed to the ground, he was cold. He was naked. God why wouldn’t they stop. He felt tears fall from his eyes, he was beginning to see colors, hear sounds.

God it hurt, why did everyone hurt him? Why did they use his body, like it wasn’t even his? Why was he such a whore? He started to regain sight enough to push the person off of him. Howevet it was already too late, wasn’t it. How did this happen?

It was different now, he was different. Ian was now somewhere else, it was still dark, but it was also really wet, and there was faint light as well as a lot of noise. He was wet and kind of chilled , not sure where he was, or what he was doing. He looked down and there was a needle in his arm. How did he get here? Then the scene around him changed. He was at home, lying on his bathroom floor. He was so cold. How did he get back to his apartment, what the hell was going on. A crippling fear set in his mind, he didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

He didn’t want it.

* * *

 

New York, New York! Frank had always hated this place, he had been there many times back in the day, usually with Monica. Every time that had went to the City, she left him. What was the irony in him going there to be with her. To help her. Frank scoffed that’s even if the mystery caller was legit. He sat in the back of a yellow cab, waiting for the dumb towel head to get him to his destination.

The address he was given, was in a very bad part of the City. “If Monica wanted to slum it, she should have just stayed home with her children.” Frank spoke snidely.

They finally pulled to the complex . The place was run down, Windows smashed and boarded up all over. How was- whoever lived here- supposed to pay him? He was in the slums of the slums. He wasn’t fucking leaving empty handed. His worry for Monica got the best with him as he went inside and made his way to the 4th floor. He came face to face with the address Hed been given.

Frank contemplated leaving. It was for Monica, he didn’t care about whatever sorry sap shed been shacking up with thus time. He was here for her, and her alone. He couldn’t handle it if anything happened to her. So he knocked and then knocked again, only there was no answer. Frank was beginning to feel like he’s be duped, until he heard a mumbling on the other side.

It was quiet and distant, but it was his Monica’s voice. He tried the handle finding it unlocked. He let himself inside. The place was a wreck, it was a run down studio, there were dividers up for what looked like make shift bedrooms. There was very little furniture. The floor was scattered with empty beer and liquor bottles, as well as cigarette butts and ashes .

“Monica!” He called out, he heard mumble again, albeit it was louder now he was inside. He went into one of the divided areas, and there she was curled up in a bed. She was alone, and looked like she’s barely moved in days. She was asking for water, practically begging. “Monica, its me, Frank. Come on, why don’t you try getting out of bed?”

“Frank? I’m not feeling it today, I need water…” she let out. “Come on Mon, I didn’t come all the way here for you to lay around, let’s get you in the shower.” she began to mumble and moan as Frank hauled her out of the bed. He exited the divider, carefully sporting her weight. He looked for a door that could lead to a bathroom.

“Why are you here Frank? I need to go back to bed, I don’t think I can do this today.” She tried, Frank just ignored her as he found what he thought to be the bathroom. What he found on the other side, was not what he expected at all. Yes it was the fucking bathroom, that’s not what shocked him, it was who.

On the bathroom floor, wearing little more than boxers, and covered in cuts and bruises- Was a boy. Not just any boy, he was pale and stick thin, he had a series of recent track marks on his arm and a needle poking out of the other one. No wonder the voice had sounded so familiar, it was the voice of his own missing son. Well step son, but he didn’t know that till a few years ago.

There was dried blood on his legs and boxers, and Frank actually felt sick to his stomach. The sight seemed to make Monica snap back to reality. Because she managed to pull away from his arms and support herself. “Baby?” She whispered. “Oh god Ian, what have you done?” Frank watched as tears began to sprinkle from her eyes. “Ian, baby, wake up please!” she half yelled.

Frank wasn’t quite sure what to say or do. Everyone back home was worried to death over the red head, and here he was shooting up heroin in a run down apartment in New york, while his mother went through a psychotic episode. Maybe they had reason to worry after all. Ian slowly stirred, he sat up and coming face to face with Monica and Frank.

Frank wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but Monica looked distraught. The boy looked down at himself, before shaking his head. The boy looked up at them, shrugged his shoulders, and spoke “what? I’m fine. Its all fine.” For the first time in many years, Frank felt regret, regret for how he treated the boy growing up. Regret for not caring when he was diagnosed as bipolar, and regret for laughing when the boy left. He should have helped the boy. He should have done something more.

But that wasn’t Frank, was it? And it sure as hell wasn’t Monica. He looked at her face, then to her son’s. In that moment he knew he needed to help them, he needed to do something. He also needed to make sure Fiona and the others never found out, because if they did...He looked at his son. The one that was never truly his, and the women who would never stay with him. They both needed to go on meds, they were both a mess. He needed Lithium.

They would be okay, Frank Gallagher would be decent this once and make sure of it. It was for Monica after all, it would break her heart if something happened to Ian. They would be fine, because if anything happened, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Frank hed gotten himself in similar situations many times before, but to see a kid like that, Monica’s kid...it was too much for Frank, the kid looked like he’s been raped or something. That thought made Frank feel sick. Ian was a kid, someone hurt his kid. No matter how much he wasn’t, Ian was his.

God, how had he messed up so badly?


	4. I'm Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been one year. Ian is clean, he and Monica have moved on to a new city. Ian is involved with some bad people.
> 
> Mickey is doing good, but is having trouble moving on from Ian, Carl misses his brother.
> 
> Ian runs into an old friend.

 

Mickey missed Ian, every night he dreamt of read hair, green eyes, and freckles. Ian Gallagher, the love of his fuckin life. God didn’t he sound like a Sappy gay fuck? This is why he didn’t do this feelings bull shit, got he fucking hated the red head. Mickey had came out for him, done everything for Ian, and look at the That is he got? It had been one year now, one fucking year since Gallagher had up and left him without even saying goodbye. Mickey called and called him every day at first, but a week into his disappearance, the other boys phone was disconnected. He looked everywhere, and t every that club in Chicago. He even had his fucking brothers help.

  
They even Looked in parts of Wisconsin, too. Never dud they have any luck, the rest of the Gallagher had been worried sick, except of course Frank. Ian never contacted any of them, now it had been one full fucking year. It pissed Mickey off. He d given up looking after 1 months. What the fuck was the point? If Ian wanted to be found, her be found. Mickey decided to give up and move on. The Gallagher had held onto hope a little longer, but gave up not long after he did. Mickey had gotten quite close to them after all this shit. Even though Lip was a self righteous ass.

  
They were so close, in fact, they all considered each other family. There was just one unspoken rule between them, no one was to mention the red head. That was just fine with Mickey. He spent his first few months getting trashed and fucking strangers. Soon he figured he couldn’t love like that anymore, he was letting Ian won. He couldn’t fucking do it. So he decided to get his shit together. Hed recently gotten into the business of bounty hunting. He was doing it Legally of course.

  
It was honest work, that let him beat the shit out of, and shoot people. A good way to get out his frustrations without beating random dumbasses. Plus he could still smoke pot and drink whatever the fuck he wanted without fear of losing his job. It was awesome. Mickey needed something to take his mind off of shit. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just move on. Hell an probably moved on a long time a go , he was probably out there fucking every Tom, Dick, and Harry   
Mickey sneered. He often wondered how long it took Gallagher before he hopped into bed with someone new. Its not like the red head was faithful when they were together.

Mickey knew it hadn't taken him long at all. Hell It had taken Mickey less than a week. Ian liked sex, he was probably in bed with someone knew the same night he left. The Milkovitch shook his head, he was just bitter. He may have gave up on Ian, but he could never let himself fully move on. It was a son of a bitch on his sec life. He hated Ian for leaving, bit he still loves him.

  
Mickey shook his head, he was sitting at home, alone as usual. Drinking beer after beer. Letting his mind slip places it shouldn’t go, god he needed to get back out there. He at least needed a fuck buddy, it was high time he moved the fuck on with his life. He was going good, he needed good people in his life. Even if he couldn’t find it in himself to date, he still needed to try to find some stability.

  
Of course he had his friends, his family, he had Svetlana, and he had yevgeny, but he needed something more. He’s never been in a actual relationship before gallagher, and he didn’t even know where to start in looking for one. He needed to get the red head out of his head. One year was way to long to pine over some one. What was he talking about? Mickey Milkovitch dis not like. Jesus fucking Christ he was going soft.

* * *

 

  
Ian was dancing, swaying to the beat of the music. He was joined by Monica, they danced together. The two loved just being wild and free. One full year had now passed since Ian had ran away and left his old life behind. They had there ups, and there does, but things were good. They left New York behind them almost 5 months ago, now they were settled down in Detroit. Every day was a blast.

  
With the help of Frank, they had gotten Monica on Lithium, she was doing so much better. Ian started to take it too, if only to get Monica to take hers. After that Frank had disappeared, its what he was good at, Ian was just Surprised Frank had actually come at all. Monica had helped Ian through his withdrawals, when they were over, both decided they need a change of scenery. They also didn’t want Frank showing up whenever he pleased. After a month of being in the meds, both mother and son felt better, so they threw them out. Neither of them really needed the meds after all, not unless they were down.

  
Ian found a club to work at, he worked the bar. He only had to dance to fill in for other guys, and he only worked the back for fun and nice things. It paid way better than the one in New York, so he didn’t bother looking for a job anywhere else. The escort life wasn’t really for him. I mean, sure it was good money, but Ian hated regulars. He hated the commitment. He loved being free.  
He twirled Monica around and around, they were laughing so hard. Both had a lot to drink, and were pretty fucking high. Speaking of freedom, it was so fucking freeing living live on the run. He loved every minute of it. He could don what he wanted, when he wanted, and with who he wanted. There we no repercussions.

  
Ian laughed as a random man swooped Monica away and began dancing. He felt great! He gas a ton of energy. A guy began dancing real close to him, next thing Ian knew, they were grinding. It was incredible . He missed this feeling. He missed having this much fun on the dance floor, because let’s face it, he hadn’t had fun or forever. The red head loved to loose control. Ian pulled away from his dance partner, because as much as lived to lose control. He needed to stay in control.

  
Ian had a job to do, after all. Although he and Monica lived comfortably on his club income, the job didn’t quite give Ian the thrill he needed. Where escorting was to boring, the club wasn’t quite daring enough. Ian loved living life on the edge, so after Monica pulled him down from it, Ian couldn’t help but find a new edge. That’s how Ian managed to get involved in some dangerous shit. Ian needed a release, something other than sex to let his frustrations out.

  
He got involved with a gang called “ Skinzz.” They weren’t at all mainstream, and they weren’t all that intimidating. He wasn’t even affiliated with them, at least not official. He did jobs on the side for them. It was extra cash, and it gave him the excitement he wanted- needed. They could care less that he was gay, as long as he did what he signed up to do, they left him be. As a plus side it earned him protection of he ever heeded it.   
Most if the jobs he did just involved drug exchanges, Ian was a good seller. Good at getting people to do what he wanted, especially around the club, be it by bribery, manipulation, or even sex. Ian sent Monica a quick wink ad he exited the club, he was just their killing time, living free. Now his job was a go. His job was to seduce, and his target was alreadyon the move. God this is gonna be fun.

* * *

 

  
Mandy Milkovitch was doing good in life. Or, as good as she could be doing. From day one Mandy knew her life was going in 1 or 3 directions, and strangely it didn’t bother her. After finally leaving Kenyata, Mandy returned to Chicago and found her way working for an escort service. She didn’t mind it,it was great money. She knew she never really had a chance at doing much else, anyway. One day a customer got rough with her, lmao She called her brothers for help. They along with Lip tried to help her, but in the end the money was too good.

  
Mandy couldn’t stay in Chicago after all that, so she relocated down to Detroit, where she began working for another, safer escort service. It paid better, it was cleaner, and she loved it. I mean, sure it wasn’t great, but it paid the bills. He brothers often came to visit, and shed visit then, along with Lip. She missed Lip. One thing was for sure, she never stopped loving him. It was hard seeing him, it reminded her of what they had, what the could have been.

  
Lip also reminded her of Ian. Reminded her that she had no idea where he was, reminded her that maybe she could have convinced him to stay, if only she was there. The red head was her best friend and it killed her not knowing if he was alive or dead. She knew he was going through shit, but Mandy bailed anyways. He asked her to stay damn it. Poor Mickey, he favorite brother, the one who has always protected her the most. He was heart broken. She knew he loved Ian.

  
Why did the red head have to go and leave them? Everything could have been goid, he and Mickey were good m. The could have been together for ever, the one successful couple to come out of the Southside. It just wasn’t meant to be, Ian was sick. He let his disease tale over him, and there away everything that was good in his life. He left Mickey, he left his family. The only person he didn’t leave was Mandy, because she left first. It was all her fault.

  
Mandy was walking home, sure it was cold crisp fall night, but she didn’t mind. Walking helped her clear her mind. Her apartment was about 10 blocks away from where she worked, so it gave her plenty of time to just think and clear her mind. She was about 5 blocks away when she began to feel a little scarwd. Man’s felt like she was being followed and she didn’t like it. She was covered up as best as she could be, wearing tight black leather leggings. Grey winter boots, her grey corset style shirt cut though, but she tried cover up with w thin jacket. She had to dress like that for work

  
God she was starting to feel self conscious, the youngest Milkovitch tried to pull he jacket tighter around her as she turned sow a dark empty street, she was beginning to feel freaked out. It was kind of irrational really, she walked this same route most nights with no complications. She would be fine ….or maybe not. Suddenly three guys came out of no where, they were surrounding her. One of the men was beginning approach her. She had to do something, anything. She reached in he purse looking for her mace, or anything that could help her. Mandy was tough, but she knew she couldn’t take of three grown ass men. She damn sure would put a fight. The were close now, she started walking faster trying to get around the guys.

  
All of a sudden one of them had her by the arm, the other two had joined and got a hold of her, too “Stay quiet, slut, and maybe we will let you live. “ one spoke in a deep gravely voice, he was big. Tall, white, brown hair and eyes. She pulled back her fist to hit him, but they were holding her down, she kicked out, she screamed. They ignored her cries and covered her mouth, then began to pull off her clothes. She was scared frozen in fear.  
BANG! A loud sound echoed, before one of the men cried out. And all three let her go. She fell to the floor. The man who first grabbed her had been shot, the others were backing away.

  
“Get the fuck out of here before I shoot you all, or I decide to shoot you in a more vital point, one that will kill you. You fucking understand? No one, I repeat no one fucking lays a hand on that girl.” That voice, she knew that voice . The men ran off a gun shot followed, so they ran faster. It took Mandy a few minutes before she got the nerve to look up, she was scare to death, she just wanted to go home. When she finally managed to look up, she was gave to face with a pair on eyes she feared she would never see again.   
There, standing in front of her, wearing blue skinny jeans a Nirvana shirt, and a leather jacket was her savior. He looked down at her, gun still in hand, only he now had it faced to the ground.

  
“You’re gonna be okay, I’m here now, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He rushed out all at once, and she couldn’t help but believe him.  
Because her savior was none other that Ian Gallagher, himself.

* * *

 

  
Carl Hated how everyone could pretend everything was okay. He hated how they could all just go on living their lives. It was almost as if his big brother didn’t exist. Carl could hardly believe it had been a whole year since Ian left, it felt like just yesterday that the red head was showing him how to properly grip a knife. In reality it had been years. Carl never even got to say good bye to Ian, he had been on juvie at the time. He didn’t even know his brother was missing till he got home. No one had thought to tell him.  
He remembered coming home, and everyone just acting all normal. It was only when he asked where Ian was, that Carl found out. A whole week after being home. All he got was a ‘Sorry buddy, we thought you knew.” How the fuck was he supposed to have known that? Really Carl was more mad at himself, if he hadn’t been stupid and got himself thrown in juvie…

  
After all that he got himself even deeper in all that shit, now he was taking the long path out of the hole he’d made his life into. Carl didn’t want to stay in the south side. He wanted to get out of there, not just for himself, but for Ian. Before all this shit with Monica, with the bipolar disease, Ian was the one who had the most ambition to leave. Well now he was gone, but was that really for the better? Either way Carl wanted to make the red head proud. Ian was the one sibling that saw through him. That knew he could do better than what he had been doing.

  
Carl remembered when he was younger, he wasn’t sure how young exactly, but it was one of his first memories. Ian had to have been about 7 or 8 at the time. He remembered being all alone, everyone was gone, and Frank was passed out. He was scared and hungry, he cried and cried. His mommy was no where, Fiona never came. He remembered feeling so scared, his diaper was full. Then all of a sudden Ian came in. He remembered the red head yelling at Frank, remembered them arguing. Then Ian picked him up, the held Carl. He changed his diaper, and gave him food. Carl remembered being so happy, he wasn’t alone anymore.

  
Ian was sad, he remembered that, but the older boy still kissed his head and said it would be alright. Ian took him and gave him a bath, he felt so much better, he couldn’t quit giggling. The best part of the memory? Was when later that bight, they were still alone, no one else showed up, he was getting really sleepy. Even though Ian was still sad, he took Carl to bed. Instead of leaving him all alone, Like the others always did. Ian climbed into bed with carl. Carl remembered feeling safe and at peace that night, as he fell asleep in Ian arms.

  
In that moment, Carl knew everything would be okay.

  
Now? He wasn’t so sure. After everything that has happened, he needed his big brother. He needed him to be there for him, maybe in different ways than Ian was back then, but he still needed him. He needed to go out shooting, or to learn a new knife trick, anything really. He just needed Ian to be there. He needed to know Ian was okay, just like the red head always made sure Carl was.  
Carl needed it to all be okay again, but it wasn’t

* * *

 

  
Mandy was at a complete loss. Within the time span of 1 hour, she had almost been gang raped, and then she was saved by her long lost best fried. The most shocking thing out of all of it? Ian had actually shot someone. To say Mandy wasn’t sure how to react, was an understatement. After saving her, Ian had dragged het off to a much nicer part of Detroit. He was talking happily, going a mile a minute with his words, acting like no time had passed since he disappeared with Monica. Of course, she can’t really be too mad at him, she left with Kenyata first..  
It just kind of hurt that he didn’t keep in touch, Ian and Mandy always kept in touch. He told he r what was going on when he left for the army, she kept contact she moved to Indiana. Even if it was just once a month contact to let each other know they were alive. When Ian left with Monica, he even cut contact with her. It hurt, a lot. Seeing him now, made her forget the hurt.

  
It didn't even take 5 minutes for them to start talking and getting comfortable. They both told each other how they each, respectively, came to be in Detroit. Ian told her of his time in New York, she told Ian how she finally got the courage to leave her ex, and ended up working for the escort service. That’s what she loved about Ian, there was no judgement from him over her occupation. He even said himself.

  
“Escorting way more classy than working the streets, or the back of a club.” But then that was Ian wasn’t it? He knew he had no room to judge, they were both one and the same. Ian had done worse, still probably was no he was involved with a gang. That surprised Mandy, Ian was not the type to get involved in shit like that. For one he was too fucking gay, it was risky business for someone like him. Luckily to most, Ian didn’t come off as gay. Second, Ian was too nice of a guy. To be involved with those kinds of people…it didn’t seem right to Mandy.

  
But it had been over a year since they last saw each other, a lot could have changed between now and then. Ian could have changed, he so easily shot that man earlier today. It Mau have been to save her, but the Ian she knew would have found a different way, I mean sure he was always good with guns, and would have made a great soldier….but regular people? If you can even call scum like that people, Maybe that’s how Ian saw it.

  
Ian was talking a mile a minute, he had so much energy. He literally saved her, and now he was dragging her to some club he worked at. He wanted to introduce her to a Monica, wasn’t that his mom? Mandy could barely get a word out. She wanted to know why he left. She wanted to know if he was okay, he looked okay, but Ian always looked okay. Before she could even react she was introduced to Monica and dragged out to the dance floor.

  
She really hoped Ian was alright.

* * *

 

  
Ian’s target had been a easy hook-line and sinker, why were old men so easy? If they were gay, he could he could seduce em'. Ever since he was young, it had been easy. He exited the hotel room in which he left his target, drugged and passed out. He handed off the rooms key card to a member of the gang. His job was to seduce the old man, get him alone, and then to drug him. What happened from there had nothing to do with Ian, and he didn’t really care to know.

  
He managed to slip a few roofies in the guys drink, and knocked him out before the guy tried anything. Ian was just thankful he didn’t have to fuck the old bastard. The though of it gave h the chills, and that mad him think back to when he did fuck old men. He did it for money, he’ll he still did, he just got to choose who he fucked.

  
Ian shook away any negative thoughts from his head, he left the hotel and entered the dark cold streets of Detroit. Ian actually kind of like it here, it was a lot like Chicago, but different at the same time. Growing up Southside prepared him for the grueling streets of detroit, but there was something exciting about the unknown. It was exhilarating. He shifted the gun tucked in the back of his head, it was hidden by his coat. He always had a gun on him when he did a job for the gang, it could always get dangerous fast. They gave him the gun for his own protection, and Ian wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact that he might need it. Not only was he involved with some dangerous shit, he had a habit of getting himself in bad situations.

* * *

 

  
Ian sighed. It was a particularly cold October night, soon it would be thanksgiving. Ian only wore a thin jacket, he tried to wrap it in tighter, but it did nothing to strive off the cold. He gripped his jacket tighter, he was in a particularly bad neighborhood. Sirens were going off left and right, gun shots on each corner, and screams off in the distance. It really reminded Ian of home. He looked up and saw what looked like 3 men surrounding a young women, she was all alone and looked defenseless .

  
He saw as they began to corner her and attack her. She yelled out, and the fuck if he didn’t recognize that voice. She looked different, she had blond hair now, but he was almost positive that the women being cornered on from of him was the one and only Mandy Milkovitch. He pulled his gun out checked to make sure it we loaded, then fired off a warning shot. It all happened so quickly, but he actually ended up shooting one of them.

  
It turned out that it was definitely Mandy, he quickly whisked her away from the scene. When he was sure she was okay, they began to talk and catch up. God he had missed her so much, he regretted not keeping in touch. Mandy was his best friend after all. Yeah, she looked good, better than ever. Detroit seemed to be doing her good, it sucked that she was escorting, she was so much better than that. Unlike him, he deserved this life. She didn’t. He was quick to tell her that she had nothing to be ashamed of, he had done much worse things.

  
Ian had always known Mandy could go far in life, he wished she saw a future besides the one everyone thought she'd end up in. Despite everything, though, she truly was happy, or as happy as she could be. She was much better off here and now, than she was back in the Southside of Chicago. His only other chance to get out was the army, and he managed to fuck that all up. Now he could never go back to the army. This life was the only way he would have ever made it out of Chicago. All he was and ever would be good for, was his body.

  
He took Mandy to meet Monica at the club he worked at, he showed her around. Ian and Mandy had fun, they drank a little, they danced, and just caught up. Ian missed this, he missed her. Mandy was his best friend, he wasn’t sure how he ever did anything without her. How he was able to be gone for so long without seeing her. She was his best friend, his fucking only true friend. He hated that they had drifted so far apart. But then, that was his fault, wasn’t it?

  
Maybe Mandy was better off without him, away from him…

* * *

 

  
After they hung out at the club Ian invited her to come stay the night with him. He had a hotel room already booked for the night, it was 5 star and had a Jacuzzi rub. There was no need to waste it, they could drink some more, order room device, and just have a blast like they used too. Back when times were simpler and they could have sleepovers and pretend to be boyfriend-girlfriend. Mandy couldn’t turn him down.

  
It had been too long since she last saw Ian, she hates how skinny he too had gotten. Last time she saw him he was all muscled up, but now.. He still had muscles, he still obviously worked out, but he also obviously didn’t ea5 much. Definitely not as much as he should, and definitely not every day. It almost made her cry to see him like that. Fuck. Ian was always so strong, so open and proud. Now he was almost a she’ll of who he used to be.

  
He could be and do so much better than what he has been. Ian was fucking beautiful for crying out loud! For as much as she used to be in love with his brother Lip, and as much as she chased after him, Mandy has always loved Ian more. She love Ian. With all her heart and soul, the red head was her first love, her best friend and how the he’ll did she fail him so much?

  
The hotel was gorgeous, it was 6 stories high. It had a balcony with a view of the entirety of Detroit. It almost took her breath away. The Jacuzzi had a open view also. She relaxed inside it, curled up in to Ian s side, they were both only in underwear. To anyone who was outside looking in, the looked like a perfect couple. Each had a beer, because wine was never there thing.

  
Everything was just so peaceful and relaxed, it felt so good to be in Ian s arms. She missed the way he smelled, the way he held her. The 2ay his mere presence made her feel safe, and like everything would be okay. She could almost forget about her job, forget about ever bad thing that ever happened in her life. She’d already forgotten how she was almost gang raped earlier that night, being there with Ian made everything else disappear.

  
As the night progressed, Mandy got very fucking drunk. It was awesome. Ian was pretty lit, too. They were lounging on the hotel bed watching some cheesy western movie. She and Ian were passing a joint back and fourth just enjoying each other. All Mandy could think was how she didn’t 2ant 5hat moment to end. But of course all good things have to come to an end.

  
It was dark, Mandy didn’t know where she was. She sat up and realized she was in a hotel room. Ian s hotel room, she was alone in the bed. Last she remembered, the tv was on, they were laughing passing a joint back and fourth. Now it was dark except for the city lights outside, it was quiet, and she was alone in the bed. Where the fuck is Ian? She got up and looked around, his clothes were on the floor still, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  
She shrugged maybe he stepped outside for a phone call or something? But why the he’ll would he leave his clothes. Mandy looked up and saw that the bathroom door was ajar and the lights were on inside   
“Ian?” she called out. Everything was silent. Fuck it. Mandy pushed the bathroom door all the way open, but was in no way prepared for what was on the other side.

  
“Ian! Fuck, you peice of shit, Ian.” She felt tears fall from her eyes as she rushed towards the red head. The once sweet innocent Ian Gallagher, passed out on the fl9or with a needle in his arm. As she took a close look she saw old marks on his arm from where he had shot up before, but no recent ones. How the he’ll could she have missed this? More importantly, why the fuck would he choose now to have a relapse, because it was obvious he hadn’t done it in awhile.

  
“Fuck you, Ian. We haven’t seen each other in over a year. How could you fuckin do this to me?” Years fell from her face, luckily he was alive, and breathing just fine. It wasn’t a otherwise , it was just the fucking heroin doing its blissful work. Fuck. One thing was now for certain.

  
Ian was not okay.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave Kudos and comm3nts. I love knowing people out thetevqctually like and read this. Its my first Shameless fic, and my first on this site.


	5. I need help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In present time, two months after Monica's death, Mandy asks for help.
> 
> Five months after saving Mandy and taking off, Ian calls and asks for help.

Carl Hated his siblings, he hated how they could just forget so easy. How they could just move on with there lives. Its now been 2 months since the death of Monica Gallagher, making it 2 years and 2 months since anyone had seen or heard from Ian. No one had so much has mentioned his red headed brother, no one so much as looked into whether or not he d been connected to Monica still. Of course they didn’t, it was the only thing that made any mucking sense. Ian left with her an never returned, now she's dead, why would there be any reason to believe Ian was involved somehow?

  
Carl shook his head, it was fucking pathetic. Not even Lip had came to any conclusions. The were down right being ignorant, when it was ruled a accident, everyone forgot about the person who called in her overdose. Carl knew, he just fucking knew, that it wad Ian. If it wasn’t Ian, the red head would be home by now. He wouldn’t just ignore there mother’s death, he couldn’t.

  
It was really fucking aggravating that everyone seemed to think he was upset because of Monica. He wasn’t, he hated her. Carl wanted Ian home, wanted to know he was safe, to know he was alive. Carl was tired of the unknown. Well, that was until now. Now he did know, they all did. For once someone finally brought up his brother, someone finally seemed to know something. Of course, out of everyone, it wad Mandy Milkovitch, it was always fucking Mandy. Ian probably never lost touch with her.

  
All the Gallagher siblings were on the kitchen when it happened. Mickey, his boyfriend, and Iggy were all over talking to Lip about some business. When she came barging though the front door for the first time in years. Like Ian, Mandy had been gone for over 2 years, even longer than the red head. She, however, kept in touch with her family and visited from tome to time. She never came to the Gallagher residence, though. Not once, that is, until now.

  
“Mandy? The fuck ya crying for?” spoke Iggy first. Everyone was shocked by the girls arrivals no one expected it.

  
“Mands…” Lip said, but was soon cut off by the once black headed girl. Mandy was now blond, it was beautiful.

  
“I need your help, I-I can’t fuckin- I can’t do this shit anymore. Its all out of hand.” Mickey being the protective big brother stepped forward, not knowing the situation, but prepared to do what she needed him to do.   
She looked to him, guilt written all over het face, then looked away back towards Carl and the rest of the Gallaghers

“In sorry Mick…so so sorry. I need there help, you cant- ease?” she looked list as she looked Fiona in the eye. Fiona getting that something important was about to go down, stepped forward. She put on a calming smile and reached out to Mandy.

  
“Mandy, hunny, I need to know what’s going on. Cant help you if you don’t tell us.” She looked to Lip and Lands Brothers, obviously wondering what the fuck Mandy wanted from them. Carl was wondering the same thing, why’d she want their help over het family? Why the fuck did she even think they would help?

  
“He is south Detroit memorial hospital, I can’t do this anymore. “ Mandy said as more tears fell from her face. They were all confused.

“Who is Mandy?” spoke Fiona softly. 

Finally Mandy looked up, looking the all in the Eyes seemingly simultaneously, doing her best to avoid Mickey and Jacob. Before saying the one thing that shocked them all into silence. The one thing Carl had wanted to hear for over 2 years.

“Ian.”

* * *

 

  
Mickey head was buzzing, his mind and body went numb the second he heard the name come out of his sister’s mouth. Ian. Ian was alive. Mandy knew where he was. The whole room was silent, Mandy looked guilty at the ground. Before he could stop himself, Mickey mouth opened and spoke of its own accord. “How long?” It was quiet, and probably not the first thing anyone should ask, but he couldn’t stop it.

  
“Mick-“ but Mickey quickly cut her off. Not caring in that moment that she had said he was in the hospital, his mind was zeroed in on her telling them she couldn’t take it anymore.  _Anymore._

  
“How fuckin long have you been in contact with him Mandy? “ He did, everyone else was still shocked silent. Mickey felt Jacob squeeze his hand from beside him. A small gesture of comfort Mickey did not need right now, not when they were talking about Ian. He needed to know.

  
“I swear I didn’t know anything when he left Mick, Ian never kept in touch with me.” She spoke, he felt himself getting angry

“How long?”

  
She sighed a long, deep, defeated sigh. ‘” I ran into him a little over a year ago, I was gonna tell you., but..”

  
“But what?” Finally, someone else spoke, this time it was Lip. He has a mixture of hope, anger, something Mickey couldn’t identify on his face.

  
Mandy looked up, a deep sadness in her eyes. “But he fuckin' disappeared on me again. I didn’t wanna get anyones hopes up.”

  
This time Fiona stepped forward, she was pissed. “you couldn’t even tell us he was Alive? Well Mandy? You said you needed Help, that you couldn’t take it anymore. So obviously you’ve been in contact with him.”

  
“ You’re right, I have been, and I should have told you sooner. I promised him I wouldn’t. He didn’t want you to know, and after he disappeared I…I didn’t want him going off again. I was so scared.. “ Mandy was stammering, she was obviously not quite ready for this.

  
“Scared of What? Scared we’d be pissed? Too fuckin late for that.” Spoke Lip.

  
“Fuck you, Lip!” Mand was getting defensive now. “ Not everything is about you, if you really wanna fucking know, I was scared for Ian. I came here because I need help. Ian’s in bad shape.”

  
Mickey knew in that moment that there was a lot she was holding back, a lot she didn’t want to say, that s when he remembered. She said Ian was in the fucking hospital. Why was he in the hospital? Sorry began to gnaw at Mickeys mind. How the fuck could she have known Ian was alive for over a year and not say anything? What happened to make Ian leave after reuniting with her? How did they reconnect again? Why was Mandy so willing to help him? These were the questions in Mickey head. The things he needed to know.

But the most urgent is what left his lips.  
“Why is Ian in the hospital.” It came our so small, so soft, it was a miracle any of them hear him. Why the fuck did Mickey even care. Ian left him. He left, and Mickey looked for the read head. Called him every fucking day. He finally moves on and made something of his pitiful life, even met someone new, someone he was beginning to fall for. Now Ian Gallagher had to go and ruin all of that, just by Mickey knowing he was alive. That was enough for the raven to question everything. Mickey fucking hated It, he fucking hated how worried he was right now, how afraid he was of Mandy answer.

  
Tears stated falling from Mandy eyes again, she looked at the floor. “He is going to be okay.” She hurried and got out, obviously not wanting the Gallaghers to worry. She looked up shame all over her face, as well as…dread? “He, uh…shit- he fuckin OD'd.” She finally gulped out.

  
Mickey could hear a pin drop. It was so silent. A look of horror slowly etched itself on each Gallaghers face. Two months ago today their shitty mother OD'd and died, now here Mandy was, asking for help. Help with the brother who dissipated with Monica, who now was in the hospital because he OD'd.

Fiona spoke. So quiet and demanding, there was no other way, but to answer her. There were so many questions, so much the didn’t know, but with the news Mandy brought. The Gallagher siblings need the answer. The needed it. “What did he take."

  
Mandy turned her back on them all and rushed out the door, before the door closed full, however, Mandy spoke. “He’s alive. He needs his family, please come and see him. “ she paused before leaving, to finally answer the question.

  
“Heroin, he OD'd on heroin." _Just like Monica._ were the unspoken words that followed Mandy as she walked away.

* * *

 

  
8 months ago, one year and 6 months since Ian left with Monica. Life was a haze. Ian wants sure what day it was anymore. He was drifting. Flying high in the never ending Limbo his life had become. He wasn’t quite awake, but wasn’t fully asleep either. Wad it night? Was it day? He didn’t know, he was pretty sure that it wad night, because it was cold. Even in the middle of summer, Detroit nights for pretty chilly.

  
Four months since Monica left Ian. She took all of their money, and some of Ian’s belongings, and she just vanished. Literally leaving the red head high and dry. Her leaving pushed Ian into a downward spiral, he was depressed, and couldn’t get out of bed. Not leaving the bed meant he wasn’t working, wasn’t making any money. In top of his low point he began having withdrawal. The pain was immense, he needed heroin. He had been off and on the drug for months.

  
By the time he got put of bed and went back to work, he was so far behind on bills, Ian got kicked out of the apartment he and Monica shared. All his money went to supporting his habit. Most nights Ian went home with random guys, he kept what little belongings he owned at the club. He also showered there. A lot of people who worked there were without a home, so the offered lockers and had showers so the worked could clean up. It helped with business. If he couldn’t find a John to take him home, and let him stay, Ian would go to the shelter. If there was no vacancy, which was often, Ian found himself out on the streets. He stayed at the club as long as possible, but eventually had to leave. No matter the persons situation, they could keep belongings there and shower, but couldn’t sleep there.

  
That particular night, Ian had found a John, but couldn’t stay. The shelter was full, and He d spent his earnings on some heroin, a new needle , and a mediocre meal from McDonald’s dollar menu. Ian often forgot to eat, he often spent all of his money on more important thing. So when he had a few bucks left over, he tried to remember to eat. Skinny didn’t get much business at the club. He tried his best to keep his toned up body, but it was hard.

  
It was hard to bring himself to care, hard to force himself to eat, or even drink anything other than alcohol. Actually, Ian wasn’t even very sure on how long He d been laying under the train bridge. That’s where he remembered passing out, but it was night time again. His phone herbed out an alarm to let him know he had to get back to the club again. He kept a small flip phone for work purposes, he charged it whole he danced.

  
The club was all the work he had left. For awhile after Monica left Ian had gotten deeper in with the gang, but things took a wrong turn. Ian had spent almost two weeks it n the hospital after that. Ian shook his head, those memories took him to a dark place. He instinctively reached down to his power abdomen, where a long, deep scar stretches all the way across. It was diagonal, going from his left hip to his right lower rib. He was lucky the club let him dance after that. Good thing for him, that a lot of men liked scars..

  
Ian shivered as a particularly cold breeze ran through his body. He need a hit before work. A lot of guys slept under the bridge so Ian wasn’t exactly alone, no, he was never alone. He walked over to a tent a few yards away. A old homeless man named Johnny loved there. He made his money by dealing drugs to others who lived slept under the bridge. Ian and Johnny had a deal, when ever Ian stayed out here he could go to Johnny. The old guy gave him whatever drugs Ian needed, Ian sucked him off. It was simple.

  
Ian hated it, mostly he hates himself. He needs heroin heroin, he cant live with out it. Not anymore. The old man took one look at the red head and unzipped his pants, Ian got on his knees and went straight to work. Better to ignore it and just get it over with , it was the only way. He wouldn’t have any money till after his shift, he needed something before that. Needed something with a kick.

  
When he was done with Johnny, Ian settled on a speedball. He melted it down, then shot It up, and went on his merry way. And god didn’t he feel great? All thoughts of old man Jonny were thrown aside. He walked the way to the club on cloud nine. His mind blissfully numb. He couldn’t feel anything or anyone. Everything was great, so why? Why was it all black? When did he stop walking? Why was everything spinning?

* * *

 

  
Mandy was leaving her latest client, it was time to head home for the night. It had been one year and six months since Ian left with Monica, 5 months since he saved her and she got to see him again. After she found Ian lying on the floor with a needle in his arm, she first checked his pulse. When Mandy was sure Ian was okay she slapped him, slapped him as hard as she could. He woke up with a start, all Mandy could do was yell, she was so angry. How could Ian do that, after Everything? How long had he been shooting up. She was pissed. Ian ended up storming off, she hadn’t seen heard from him since. She looked for awhile, but knew it was useless.

  
Since then, Mandy spent every single day worried sick. She always found herself looking for Ian everywhere she went. Mandy not only wanted him to be okay, she need it. She was pissed, but she couldn’t help but push her anger aside. Ian wasn’t in his right mind. He was sick. He had bipolar disorder, and was on vs knows what. Ian didn’t need anger, he needed help.

  
Mandy was taking a cab home, she didn’t walk much after she nearly got raped. When she did walk, she always carried mace and a knife. Ian wouldn’t always be there to jump out and save her. He’ll he probably never would. A manic Ian on drugs? God she would be lucky if she ever even saw him again. She shook her head to clear those thoughts. Just as she managed to get situated in the back of a cab, her phone was ringing.

  
Mandy couldn’t help but let her had fall back and hit the back of the seat. She was not going to do another john. Not fucking tonight.

  
“You have a collect call from Detroit City jail, Do you accept these charges?” came an automate voice. Mandy could literally feel her eyes roll into the back of her head, which of her brothers was it this time? She quickly accepted the call.

“Hello?” she spoke, frustration clear in her voice.

  
“Mandy, I need you to come bail me out?”

  
“Who the fuck is this?” It didn’t sound like any of her brothers, the voice was gravely. Worn, and filled with desperation.

  
“Its me, Mandy. Ian.” As an after thought, he quickly added “Gallagher.” Just in case. Mandy heart almost stopped as she finally recognized the voice, and the name that went with it. She had a million things she wanted to say, but the most important thing was that Ian called her. She was angry, but couldn’t bring herself to care about her own feelings right now.

  
Before she could say anything, Ian chimed in again. “I have no one else to call…I..” and he broke off, words turning into inconsolable sobs. Mandy knew in that moment, that whatever anger she felt, had to be thrown aside.

  
“I’m on my way.” And with that she told the cab driver to take her straight to the jail.  
Ian needed her, and she wouldn’t let him down.

  
Not again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I honestly need to know if anyone likes this, also what am I doing wrong? I like criticism. Please leave me a comment. Kudos makes updates, bookmarks equal happy heart, happy writer. Please anything to help give me drive, to keep this story alive.


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